They'll ...
they'll search, I expect." "You can do your own dirty work," whispered Frank earnestly through the darkness.
"Frankie, my boy ...

don't be hard on a poor devil....

I ...

I can't leave Gertie." "Well, hide it somewhere." "No good--they'd ...

Good God--!" The voice was stricken into silence once more, as a light, hardly seen before it was gone again, shone through a crack in the side of the barn.
Then there was unmistakable low talking somewhere.
Frank felt the man, crouched at his side, suddenly stand up noiselessly, and in that instant his own mind was made up.
"Give it here, you fool," he said.